


Brandy and Eggnog, There's Plenty of Cheer

by Titti



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Challenge Response, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 08:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13337520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: Ron and Pansy end up very drunk and in Ron's bed on Christmas Eve.





	Brandy and Eggnog, There's Plenty of Cheer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Mini Fest](https://mini-fest.livejournal.com/)  
>  **Prompt:** Pansy /Ron - they both got cast aside in favor of someone else by their "best" friend and lover (Draco and Hermione) now Christmas looks bleak, but maybe getting drunk together is the perfect solution  
>  **Warning:** Both are very drunk when having sex.  
>  **Notes:** Title taken from The Season's Upon Us by Dropkick Murphys. Thanks to for the beta work.

Pansy occupied a dirty table tucked away in the deepest corner of the Hog's Head Inn. It was Christmas Eve and the bright lights decorating Hogsmeade could be seen even through the encrusted windows, but that was the only sign of the holidays in the bar. The patrons looked sad and miserable, hiding from each other and the world. The average age seemed to be around sixty. There was no joyous laughter or Christmas carols, but men drinking their troubles away. Pansy liked it here, because no one knew who she was and no one cared, until-

Ron was not in a good mood. He'd fought with Harry. He'd fought with Ginny. He'd fought with his mother. In short, he'd fought with everyone, because of Hermione. Apparently it was his fault that she'd broken up with him, even though he still had no idea why. The Hog's Head would be a good place to avoid his family and friends and none of the people here would have bothered an Auror, except-

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he took a good look at Pansy. She was drinking from a glass smudged with dirty streaks, sitting at a table that hadn't seen a cleaning spell for at least a few decades, but she looked just as prim as ever, with her long shiny black hair and a form fitting red velvet robe. "You're wearing red?"

"Brilliant observation, Weasley. Ten point to Gryffindor. Now are you going to stand there and stare at my breasts or are you sitting down?" She waved to the bar. "Glass for the brilliant Auror."

"You're drunk."

Pansy laughed. "Not nearly enough, but I'm trying to be, so either join me or go away."

"You shouldn't-"

Pansy grabbed her wand and put in on the table, keeping her fingers on it. "You're here same as me, Weasley. You don't get to tell me what I should or shouldn't do."

Aberforth arrived with a glass that looked just as dirty as hers and another bottle of whatever she was drinking. He picked up the empty one and stared at her. "You puke, you clean it."

"I'm a lady. I don't puke," Pansy answered with a smile, before pouring two glasses. She took a sip from both. "There, I'm not poisoning you. Or he isn't. Or whatever."

Ron knew better. He should get out right now, because she was evil and a Slytherin and those things were possibly the same thing, but instead he took a seat. He smelled the drink and then took a sip. "God, is this-"

"Eggnog."

"Heavy on the brandy."

"Light on everything else, just like I like it," she answered.

Ron tried a little more and decided that brandy would do just fine. He wasn't too picky when it came to getting drunk. He finished his glass in minutes, neither of them interested in talking for now. When he refilled their glasses, he took a good look at her. "You never answered."

"What was the question again?" she asked, giggling.

"What are you doing here?"

She rolled her eyes. "What do you think? My father is dead, my mother is in Azkaban and my boyfriend thinks that I'm a detriment to his chances at this upcoming trial. Ex-boyfriend, I should say. My friends are dealing with their own deaths, arrests and trials. So I'm here to get drunk. What about you? Shouldn't you be with your warm and cheery family?" she said, scrunching her nose at her own words.

"Should, but they like Hermione more than me at the moment. I must have done something nefarious for her to break up with me."

"And did you?" she said, leaning closer and giving Ron a very good view of her breasts. "Tell me you did. Did you cheat on her? No, of course you wouldn't. Did you- Oh I know, did you scribble in her books?"

Ron snorted. "Might as well." He finished his second glass of eggnog and filled the glass again.

"Good boy, you're catching up with me." She moved her chair closer, without bothering to get up, the legs making a ruckus on the filthy floor, but none of the other patrons looked their way. Happy that she was close enough, she swung her legs and put them on his lap while putting an arm around his neck. "So what did you do, you naughty boy?" she whispered in his ear.

The heat spreading through him was due to the brandy, not from the way she was sitting. Ron would swear to that on his mother's. Maybe best not to bring his mother into this when her perky breasts were brushing against him. "I-" He turned his head to look at her and her lips were right there, so close that he could smell the cream from the eggnog.

"Yes?"

"She wants to be Minister. My lack of ambition is… detrimental to that. Or something. Not really sure. There was lots of rambling, about school, reading and research." He still wasn't sure why research had anything to do with their relationship. 

Pansy snorted. "She should date Draco. He loves research and they can take their detriment and shove it up their arses."

"Not sure that make sense."

She reached for the bottle and topped both glasses. "Do you care?"

Ron thought for a moment. "Sod it, they can shove it."

"That's right." She raised her glasses. "To our exes, may they be miserable while reaching for their dreams."

Ron huffed. "Christmas spirit at its best." He clinked their glasses together. "Cheers."

Pansy threw her head back and cleaned her glass. "Can't keep up, Weasley? Doesn't alcohol tolerance come with the red hair?"

"I'll show you tolerance." Ron finished his own glass, before motioning Abeforth for another bottle. They were well into their fourth one, before they decided to leave and head for Ron's cottage.

* * *

Pansy woke up and everything hurt. Her head was pounding. Her body was sore and she felt sticky all over. She reached blindly for her wand, but it wasn't there. In fact, her nightstand wasn't where it was supposed to be. She opened her eyes and saw Ron Weasley, sprawled on his stomach, sheets pooled at his waist, exposing a large tattoo of a phoenix that covered most of his back.

It couldn't be!

She squeezed her eyes shut trying to remember what had happened.

_Ron pressed her against a wall, pinning her wrists above her head with one large hand, while he cupped her breast. Lips fastened around her nipple, teasing her, while she ground against him. Clothes vanished with a wave of a wand. The rough wall against her back while he gripped her arse as she wrapped her legs around him. Red painted nails digging into his skin, leaving red marks down his arms. His hard cock pressed against her._

She opened her eyes again and the marks were there, just like she had pictured. It was real. It couldn't be. She closed them again and the memories kept rushing in.

_His hand between her legs, playing with her until she reached her orgasm. Wood under her knees. Her lips around his cock, traces of lipstick smudged as she worked him into hardness. His body, heavy against her, pressing her down against the mattress. The shock in his eyes, there for an instant, before he started moving inside her. Her second orgasm surprising her. His head thrown back, lips apart, coming above her._

She had. By Merlin, she had sex with Ron Weasley and she could only remember flashes. She slid to the edge of the bed, trying to leave without waking him. She sat up and her stomach agitated and shook like the moving staircases at Hogwarts. She leaned forward, trying to get herself under control, when-

"Bloody hell!"

Pansy winced at the sudden noise. "Shh, my head hurts."

"No shit." Ron rolled around and the sheets slid further down, exposing the red stains. "What the- Fuck, I didn't imagine it."

Pansy closed his eyes again. She refused to look at him, refused to see whatever he was feeling for her as clear on his face as the thousands Christmas lights decorating Hogsmeade "My house elf can get rid of the blood for you."

"You think that's what I care about?" Ron would have shaken his head, but this wasn't the first hangover of his life. "You and Malfoy never-"

"Good girls don't have sex, don't you know, Weasley?" She tensed when she felt his hand on her back. "Stop. Whatever you're thinking, stop thinking it."

"You should have said something."

She turned and glared at him. "And would you have continued if I had?"

"No, probably not. Maybe. I don't know. I was drunk," he admitted, before getting up. 

Pansy knew that good girls would look away, but she didn't. She took a very good look at him. He'd been tall and lanky when they had started school, but he'd filled out and now sculpted muscles covered his frame. The tattoo made him look like a bad boy, even if he was the poster child for Gryffindor. His cock- oh, she knew why she was feeling so sore - even flaccid, it was thick and long, with red thatch at its base.

"Liking the view?" Ron asked, amused.

Pansy raised her eyes and met his. "Yes." She tilted her head as if daring him to say something, but instead he drank from a vial and brought a second one back with him.

"Take this. I'll help with the headache."

Pansy took it with a frown. "Why are you being nice?"

"Because we slept together? Because it doesn't cost me anything? Because that's what people do?" Ron cast a cleaning spell on the sheets and lay back down. "Drink up, Parkinson. It'll make you feel better."

Despite the confusion, she knew he was right, and drank the awful potion. The taste was enough to make her throw up, and that brought up another memory. "Did I say that I'm a lady and don't puke?"

Ron chuckled. "I was still sober enough to remember that one."

She let herself fall back down and hid her face against the pillow. "You weren't supposed to be there. Only old people go there, people who don't know me."

Ron ran his fingers through her hair and she sighed happily. "You weren't supposed to be there either, but it happened. It doesn't have to be a big deal and I won't say anything to anyone."

She turned her head at glared at him. "Ashamed, Weasley?"

"Sweet Merlin, you women are all mad! I was being nice since you were a…. I mean-"

"Virgin. I was a virgin, not some innocent child you have to protect," she spat out.

"I meant that since you haven't, you might not want your friends to know that your first time was with me," he said, exasperated. "I know how much your friends like me."

"Just because I didn't do this before, it doesn't mean that I've never had sex: anal sex, oral sex. Oh my, are you blushing? Anyway, no one has any say on what I do." She flopped around, her head feeling better as the potion took effect and stared at the ceiling while she thought about the possibilities. "In fact, I might just share the news and let the rumour mill do the rest."

Ron rolled to his side and stared at her. "I will never understand women."

"Clearly."

"Why? Why would you want tell them?"

She turned her head and smirked. "Because then I can tell them how much better than Draco you are."

"Revenge, then?"

"Revenge and the truth. He's too in love with himself to care about anyone else. Even drunk, you made me come twice. I think that should be shared and if he seethes, not really my fault that you're better," she said with an innocent pout.

"No, of course not. In fact, I think you're right; we should always tell the truth," Ron said with a smug grin. "And if it hurts Malfoy, well really we didn't mean to."

"Now, you're getting it." She ran her fingers down his chest. "I should go, but…I'm having a party on New Year's Eve. Most of my friends don't have families and the manor is so… empty. You should come."

Ron sighed. "Not that I wouldn't love a night with a bunch of evil Slytherins-"

Pansy snorted. "Drunk Slytherins is what you meant."

"That too, but I have to be at the Burrow."

"Then come later. Stay for breakfast, perhaps."

Ron kissed her, while his hand moved down her side, resting on her hip. "I can do that, but before you go, why don't we try for number three?"

Pansy grinned. These holidays were turning out better than she had expected.


End file.
